


Moments

by vakarian_shepard



Category: Fallout 3
Genre: Drabble Collection, F/M, Making Out, Prompt Fill, Self-Indulgent, basically?? but not really at the same time, its fine
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-17
Updated: 2017-07-21
Packaged: 2018-08-09 11:15:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 6,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7799611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vakarian_shepard/pseuds/vakarian_shepard
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of self-indulgent Butch fics—some based on prompts, some not. Lots of kisses.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Seven Minutes

It happened on a summer night, just after finals but before the GOAT.

Butch and company were being assholes, as always, but their entire little Vault class was holding a party to celebrate the end of the school year and hell if Percy was going to let those goons ruin her good time. There was music and drinks—someone (read: _Percy_ ) had snuck into the kitchens and picked the lock on the liquor cabinet. Twenty drunk 16 to 17 year olds was sure to be a disaster, but not a single one of them cared (well, maybe Amata, just a little).

It was just past 11:30 when they had their first empty bottle and someone suggested the old world game of Seven Minutes in Heaven. There was a lot of giggling to go around, and Percy _would_ have been nervous had she not been plotting Butch DeLoria’s downfall in the back of her mind.

Maybe it was luck, or maybe it was fate, but Percy didn’t get to spin until after pretty much everyone else. Butch had already been in the closet once, but with one of his buddies, so they just stood in there and talked or something. Either way, both of them looked exactly as they did going in as they did coming out. 

She tried to calculate her spin to land on the boy across the way from her, but she wasn’t particularly good at math or physics. Still, as fate would have it, or maybe as luck would have it, the bottle landed on its target. Butch DeLoria and his little gang snickered to each other as she rose from her spot on the ground. She smirked at him when his blue eyes met hers, and she saw his smile fade a little. He had no idea what was about to hit him.

She only caught a glimpse of his self-satisfied smirk as the door closed behind them, shrouding them in darkness. She stepped towards him, not quite pressed against him but close enough to feel the heat radiating off his body, smell the cologne he wore.

He laughed a little, smug, and asked, “So, what’s it gonna be, Nosebleed? Silence or an insult contest?”

She didn’t answer him, just reached up to where she knew his collar would be, seizing it and tugging him forward so that his lips fell on hers. He made a muffled noise of surprise against her mouth as his lips reflexively pressed right back.

She knew that Butch had kissed more than his fair share of girls, but Percy had never kissed anyone before then. She didn’t really know what she was doing, but she’d read enough sappy romance novels to have a vague idea of what to do. Guessing at the correct technique, she set up a rhythm, moving her lips against his, kissing him hard. 

Slowly, Butch started to relax against her, starting to kiss her back in earnest, parting his lips for her when she traced her tongue across them. Her arms slid up around his neck as he sighed into her mouth, his own arms wrapping around her waist to pull her completely against him as he hummed contentedly against her mouth. He took a few steps forward, pressing her against the wall so he could lean in completely, leaving no room for air to slide between them. Part of her was surprised by how well they fit together just as one of his hands slid up into her hair, pressing against the back of her head to press her closer, deeper into the kiss. His open mouthed kisses continued to deepen until she could barely breathe, making her nails dig into his shoulders, and she rose up on her toes a little to get closer. His lips slid against hers, soft and warm, and she lost herself in the passion of it all, in the hot, wet slide of tongue against tongue. A moment later, her bottom lip was between his, and he gently nipped at it, tugging softly.

Percy remembered vaguely that she did this to get back at him, to confuse him and maybe discourage him from picking on her so much, but she was starting to feel something, like butterflies in her stomach. _Oh no,_ she thought. _Oh no, oh no, oh no._ She wanted to stop, to save herself the heartbreak, but she couldn’t. She was a little bit addicted to this, and she couldn’t pull herself away.

He pulled back after a moment, exhaling against her mouth just as she breathed in, breath hot against her skin, and the moment was so intimate that she felt her knees buckle a little. His head tilted the other way, adjusting the angle as he leaned back in, pausing just a brief moment to brush his nose against hers. She hummed against his mouth this time, and his arms tightened around her.

The closet had gotten increasingly warm, the atmosphere charged with electricity and the resolution of apparent attraction that she hadn’t known was there until that very moment. She didn’t want it to end, didn’t want to pull away and inevitably return to their normal dynamic of bully and victim. 

It was then, however, that the door to the closet slammed open, bathing them in artificial light as Butch jumped away like he’d been burned, leaving her slouching against the wall. Percy wanted to play it off, to pretend like they _hadn’t_ just been caught making out in the corner of a closet, but one look at the faces around the room told her that that wouldn’t work. She blushed at the laughter that rose from the crowd they’d been faced with, but she was distracted from that when she noticed that Butch’s eyes hadn’t left her face, his expression open and slightly awed. After another second, the wall he normally kept up returned and he smirked, strolling out of the closet like nothing had happened.

She met Amata’s gaze as she followed suit, and blushed even harder at her friend’s surprised, open-mouthed expression. She dreaded having to explain this later.

For the next week or so, while Butch and his little gang return to their usual antics, she couldn’t help but notice something else in his eyes—something that brought the butterflies in her stomach right back. They never kissed again while she was in the Vault, but she was pretty sure whatever emotions arose from that night didn’t ever fade—at least not before she got run out of Vault 101. She forgot her feelings the longer she was out in the Wasteland, which she was glad for, but sometimes she still dreamt about that closet and solid warmth of his arms around her.

And those dreams bothered her, because they always filled her mind with _what ifs_ for the rest of the day, as well as reminding her that, yeah, she did kind of miss his presence and the annoyance of it all.


	2. The Way You Said, "I Love You"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> based on a series of tumblr prompts called the way you said i love you

_Before we jump…_

* * *

They were trapped—pinned between a good twenty foot drop into a lake and encroaching Slavers. Percy knew that she’d get sold off easy once they figured out she was a girl, and Butch? Well, he _was_ very pretty. They didn’t have much of a choice—they had to jump and hide under the overhang, dealing with whatever beasts lived down in the water.

And, honestly, she’d take a Mirelurk King over slavery any day of the week.

“We have to jump,” she breathed, hand tightening around Butch’s where she’d grabbed it as they ran, terrified of losing him.

He looked at her sharply and hissed under his breath, “Are you out of your fucking _mind_?”

She glared right back, stepping closer to look him right in those goddamned blue eyes. “Do you really want to get captured by Slavers, _Pretty Boy_?” she ground out through clenched teeth, emphasizing the nickname to get her point across without spelling it out.

She watched the realization wash over his face, and he paled. “You’re right,” he agreed shakily, turning to eye the drop again. “On three?”

“On three,” she agreed with a nod. “One.”

“Have I mentioned that I can’t swim?” he asked suddenly, voice still shaky.

“I’m not going to let you drown. _Two_.”

“If we do die, I should mention— _I love you.”_

_“What._ ”

“Three!” 

Wrapping an arm around her waist, Butch jumped, pulling her off the cliff with him and she was lost for a moment in the sheer terror of the free fall down to the water. She never liked heights, and there was still honestly no telling what sorts of marine horrors awaited them in the murky water. She didn’t have much time to contemplate this, however, before the shockingly cold water was engulfing her, sucking her down into its depths like some sort of creature. She fought the urge to gasp, reaching towards Butch where she could barely make out his form in the water.

Wrapping an arm around his chest, she swam back towards the edge of the cliff, staying below the water to avoid being seen. Best to let them believe they’d hit their heads on the way down or something.

Her feet hit rock, once they were safely under the overhang, and she stood, gasping quietly and dragging Butch up out of the water with her. There was a little cave here, hidden from sight, and she dragged him onto the sand. Kneeling next to his unresponsive form, she was ready to perform CPR, hands poised over his chest. She stopped immediately, however, because he began to splutter, coughing up the water he’d inhaled. He raised up and turned to the side to keep the water from going right back down his windpipe. He’d inhaled a surprising amount of water, and Percy grimaced a little when she realized maybe she should have told him to hold his breath.

“…You okay?” she asked quietly after his breathing had calmed.

He groaned softly and fell back against the sand, taking deep, steadying breaths, trying to keep himself from coughing again. Cracking a smirk, he said, “I think I’ll live.”

She smiled down at him, watching his gaze soften just a little. “Good. Now, I think we should talk about your _fucking confession just as we were about to jump to our possible deaths. What the_ ** _fuck_** _,”_ she growled, smacking him lightly on the arm. 

He actually laughed, rubbing at his arm as he asked, “Which part are you mad about? The confession or the fact that I said it right before I thought we were about to die?”

She huffed. “ _Both_. You’ve picked on me since we were kids and you _love me?_ ”

He shrugged, unashamed, and said, “You know, it’s all your fault, right?”

“ _What_?”

“That day we played Seven Minutes in Heaven and you literally gave me the best kiss of my life? Yeah, this is your fault.”

Percy flushed at that, remembering that dark closet and the hotness of his breath on her skin vividly. Reaching up to brush her wet bangs back from her face, she tried to keep up her ‘I’m angry’ facade. It didn’t work. “That’s not funny, DeLoria.”

He shook his head, pushing himself up into a sitting position. “I’m not joking,” he said seriously. “I’ve been hung up on you ever since.”

She frowned. “If that’s true, then why did you _keep_ picking on me, even after that?”

Butch smiled a little and shrugged. “Well, for one, my friends would have never let me live it down, and as far as I was concerned I didn’t want to have to deal with that for the rest of my life. Two—well, like you said, I picked on you a lot. I knew you never would have given me the time of day, so I just didn’t say anything.” He was quiet for a second to let that sink in, before he continued, adding, “Plus, I was dating Susie at the time anyway,” almost like an afterthought.

She considered that for a moment—it was a fairly reasonable argument. And, she reasoned, she probably would have thought he was sick or something had he just suddenly started treating her nicely. A thought occurred to her, and suddenly it clicked into place—she _had_ noticed something different after that night. “You dumped Susie like three days after that, didn’t you?”

He winked at her. “Hard to date somebody when you can’t stop thinking about making out with someone else.”

Talking about this made her a little nostalgic for the Vault, the safety it offered that she hadn’t truly appreciated until she’d experienced the cruelty of the world beyond. She wouldn’t go back, _couldn’t_ go back, but she did miss it a little. She ran her hand through her hair again, jolted a little when she remembered that she’d cut all her hair off within a week of exiting the Vault. That had been so long ago now, and she’d perfected her hiding in plain sight technique, pretending to be a boy when it mattered, but in a lot of ways she still felt like a kid—especially since she kept expecting Butch to punch her or something whenever she needed him to help her redress a wound, or expecting him to pour her drink all over her lap when she asked him to bring her one. 

But he wasn’t like that anymore, and she had definitely noticed. 

He wasn’t looking at her when she looked back at him, blue eyes trained somewhere on the other side of the lake. She considered his profile, how his jaw had squared out more since she left the Vault the first time, almost a year ago now. Or maybe he’d just lost weight—it was hard to find time to eat out here, after all. It didn’t really diminish the attractiveness of his handsome face at all, especially not with those blue, blue eyes, a color of blue she’d only ever seen on their Vault suits.

“I need time,” she said finally, voice just barely above a whisper.

He raised an eyebrow and turned a little to look at her. “Yeah?”

“Time to think about this and—sort out my feelings, I guess.”

His answering smile was gentle and her stomach flipped. “You can take all the time you need, baby. I’ll still be here, either way,” he assured her, smiling more when she smiled back. 

“Now,” he began, sighing as he returned his gaze to the lake, “how the hell are we going to get out of here?”


	3. Steamy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> more tumblr prompts!!

_Oh god._

_Oh god, oh god, oh god._

Percy couldn’t breathe without breathing in the scent of that familiar cologne, and it was going to drive her insane the longer they were in this goddamned closet. Half of her wanted to go out and try her luck with those security guards, to try and talk her way out of the sure-to-be-awful consequences of being caught snooping, just to avoid doing something even _more_ _stupid_. There wasn’t really any room at all in this tiny closet, probably would have been worse had she not left Dogmeat with Moira this time. She was pressing as far as she could into the shelves, and she could _still_ feel the heat radiating off of him, could still feel it every time he shifted even a little. 

“You alright over there, Nosebleed?” Butch’s voice asked softly, and if she didn’t know better, she’d have thought he sounded concerned. 

“Fine,” she breathed, tilting her head to pop her neck. “It’s just a little cramped in here.”

He laughed a little. “You claustrophobic, baby? Or are you just getting a little hot and bothered, being so close to the Butch-man?”

She kind of wished he could see how hard she just rolled her eyes. Crossing her arms, she scoffed and said, “Not even in your wildest dreams, DeLoria.”

“In _my wildest_ dreams,” he murmured, laughing a little and stepping a little closer, “it doesn’t take us being trapped in a closet to get you this close to me.”

_What?_ What was happening? Was he flirting? Her voice was a little shaky when she spoke, as he was now basically pressing her into the shelves with his body. “The hell do you think you’re doing?” she asked quietly.

Her eyes had adjusted a little, and she could just make out the white of his teeth as he grinned down at her. She jumped a little when she felt his hand on her cheek, brushing the skin there gently, before it slid around to cup the back of her neck, fingers slipping through the short, dark hair there. Butch leaned in to press a kiss to her cheek. Kissing his way along her jaw, he stopped at her ear and, hot breath coaxing a tremor out of her spine, he breathed, “It’s called _payback_ , baby.”

And then he was kissing her.

It was just as she remembered it, truth be told. His lips were still just as soft as before, though she could just barely feel the tiny scar he’d gotten a few months ago on his upper lip. He still smelled like her favorite cologne, still made her knees weak when he wrapped an arm around her to drag her body up against his. He had run out of pomade a few days ago, and he’d been planning to buy more while they were here in Rivet City, so his hair was pleasantly soft when she reached up to tangle her fingers in it, pulling him closer because why the fuck not, honestly.

His fingers dug into a spot low, low on her back and it startled a groan out of her, reflex making her raise up on her toes a little to get even closer.

Actually, maybe he was _better_ at this than she remembered. He must have had quite a bit of—

His teeth sunk into her lower lip, startling her out of her thoughts, before he slipped his tongue back into her mouth with a sigh. His kisses were deep and full of what certainly felt like longing, but she knew it was probably just an act, considering he’d called this _payback_. Payback for what, she wasn’t sure exactly, because what on Earth would she have done that said that _kissing_ would be adequate payback.

He was more confident now, having had four more years of growth and maturity under his belt compared to the last time she’d been caught up in his kiss, and she could feel the heat gathering in her stomach as his hands traced what few curves she had, claiming them unapologetically and making her tremble in his arms. It had never been like this before, not with him or anyone else, and she was starting to feel a bit light-headed with pleasure. 

Butch pulled his mouth away from hers, leaving her gasping as he dove into her neck, latching onto her pulse point and sucking at the skin he found there. She couldn’t think straight, knew that she’d have a hickey or two if she didn’t stop him right now, but—

“Rise ’n shine, Goody-Two-Shoes!” came a familiar voice, seconds before her entire body felt like it had been drenched in ice cold water.

She sat up, gasping, only to find herself staring at an unfamiliar cement wall.

“Oh, _DeLoria_ , I told you _not_ to use the water!”

“Huh? No, you definitely said to _use_ the water.”

“You’re such an idiot—I don’t know how she stands you.”

Percy sat, shivering, and listened to the sound of Sahara and Butch arguing. She couldn’t exactly remember what had happened, only knew that she had an unbelievably awful headache, but that wasn’t really what worried her. Where was—?

“What’s all the fuss about? Oh! Good, you finally woke her up,” came a raspy, British accented voice from behind her.

The bickering paused, then picked right back up again as Sahara and Butch tried to blame each other for the bucket of ice water that had been poured on her. She almost wanted to laugh, at the absurdity of the whole situation, but she could already feel the chill of a cold setting in.

“Um, I’m not mad at anybody, but I’m gonna get sick if I stay like this. Anybody have any extra clothes?” she piped up, trying not to shrink back as three pairs of eyes turned to her.

In the end, it was Butch who loaned her some clothes to wear, and she tried not to let the scent of his cologne and aftershave that clung to the material get to her. She also tried her very best to meet his gaze when he tried to make conversation, to not blush when he smiled at her, but it wasn’t working all that well. 

She jumped when Butch’s hand ran down her back, resting on her lower back as he guided her towards the door. Taking advantage of their closeness, he leaned in close and said, “They put me on Percy Watch while you were out cold, you know? Must’ve been some dream you were having.” Leaning closer still, so that he was practically exhaling the words against her ear, he moaned softly, “ _Oh, Butch._ ”

Percy shoved him away violently, face flushed, and glared at him with as much venom as she could manage. “Not another _word,_ DeLoria.”

He just grinned. “You’re right, baby. Talking will only get us so far, after all, and a Tunnel Snake aims to please.”

All she could do through the embarrassment was roll her eyes and mumble, “I fucking hate you,” under her breath before she jogged to catch up with the rest of the group. 

It took another day and a half for things to return to normal, though now it seemed like she actually had gross, blossoming _feelings_ to deal with, which was exactly what she needed while she was trying to save the world. 

_Stellar_.


	4. Goodbye

“Butch, I’m _just_ going to Rivet City. Sit _down_.”

She wasn’t sure why she bothered telling him what to do anymore—he only listened when it mattered, like when their lives were in danger. The stubborn ass of a man just didn’t know when to stop, and glared at her quite pointedly as he pushed himself to his feet. He didn’t flinch, but his shoulders were a little hunched and his mouth was set into a tight line. That Deathclaw had very nearly taken his life and he was in no condition to even walk up the stairs, let alone go traipsing across the Capital Wasteland.

“I’m not letting you go by yourself, Nosebleed. Tunnel Snakes stick together,” he argued, taking a faltering step towards her.

Shaking her head, she said, “Yeah, I get that. We can’t exactly stick together if you end up _dead_ , you know. Sit down and rest—I’ll be back in a week to a week and a half at most.”

“Perse—.”

“Butch, _please_. You—you’re so important to me. I can’t lose you, okay?” She tried to pretend like her voice wasn’t shaking a little, terrified at the idea of watching him die. “Sit down. We can head out again when you’re better. For now, Dogmeat and I have it covered. I’ve been traveling alone for a long time—I can handle this, okay?”

His expression was still full of shock, and it softened a moment later into a look that she didn’t really recognize. He limped his way over to her after a moment—and did something she wasn’t expecting.

Butch cupped her face in his hands, smiled a little, and kissed her.

She leaned into it almost immediately, having wanted this for longer than she’d have cared to admit. She knew something had changed between them since the purifier, something deep and warm pulling at her heart every time she looked at him. The atmosphere around the two of them had been charged with some sort of electricity for a while, but it had gotten stronger in the past few weeks.

He pulled away after a moment, his lips lingering on hers, and when she opened her eyes, he was smiling again. It was a real smile, too—one that she really wasn’t used to seeing on his face. 

He really was beautiful when he smiled. 

“You had better come back to me, got it?” he said seriously, hands dropping to her shoulders.

She laughed a little and leaned in for one more kiss, one that he leaned into eagerly. When she pulled back again, she laughed a little and said, “You should know by now that you’re stuck with me. It’s gonna take a lot more than some Centaurs and Super Mutants to keep me from coming back to you, you know?”

He kissed her on the forehead. “Yeah, I guess. Just know that if you die on me, I’m gonna kill you.”

Percy was still giggling by the time she left Megaton.


	5. Playful

“Are you _really_ eating the last box of snack cakes?” 

Percy froze like a deer caught in the headlights, pausing one hand halfway between her mouth and the box, mouth open to bite into the delicious little snack. Butch had his hands on his hips where he was just inside the front door. She hadn’t expected him back from Gob’s Saloon until later—she’d thought she could get away with eating the last box and blaming it on him. ‘ _Oh, didn’t you notice that you ate the last box? Sorry, we’ll have to be on the lookout next time, I guess.’_

In hindsight, that hadn’t been a very good plan anyway. Butch was a little ridiculous, but he wasn’t _that_ stupid.

She smiled bashfully up at him and shrugged. “Sorry?” she offered.

Blue eyes narrowed at that, and he shook his head. “Is that the last one in that box?”

Was it? Percy hadn’t really been paying attention, but a glance revealed that, yeah, it was the last one. Hoping to reconcile for eating Butch’s favorite snack (aside from sweet rolls, but those were a lot harder to come by), she held her arm out to him. “You want it?”

He didn’t look the least bit impressed by the offer, but he still crossed the room anyway. He reached for it when he got close enough, but Percy pulled it back a little. He glared and she smiled a little wider, patting the seat next to her. 

“I haven’t seen you all day, _boyfriend_. Sit with me for a little while.”

“Are you really bribing me right now?”

She tried to look bashful again as she shrugged. “Only a little.”

He sighed dramatically as he rolled his eyes and sank into the cushions next to her. He reached for it again, but she just shook her head, offering it to him again with the intent to feed it to him. He looked suspicious, but leaned in anyway. He was about to bite into it when she pulled the cake away, swooping in to press a kiss to his lips. She had half expected him to pull away immediately, but he just laughed a little and kissed her back. Percy let herself get swept up a little in the pleasure of kissing him, let him deepen it, knowing that he could taste the sweet treat on her lips.

After a minute of this she pulled away, lingering to make him keep his eyes closed for a moment, a trick that worked literally every time.

Before he opened his eyes again, before he could catch her, she smirked a little and popped the cake into her mouth with a hum.

“Are you _kiddin_ ’ me?” came the offended response from the man sitting beside her.

She turned and winked at him, mouth still full of cake. He looked ready to pounce, but, being a gentleman for once in his life, he waited for her to swallow her food first. Wouldn’t be any fun if she suffocated to death, right?

The second she was no longer at the risk of choking, he lunged, skilled fingers seeking out every ticklish spot on her body, from her neck down to her knees. She laughed loudly, only partially from the tickling, half from just being genuinely amused by the situation. Squirming in his grasp, she just barely managed to wriggle herself away and book it up the stairs to her bedroom, Butch hot on her heels. She apparently wasn’t much faster than him anymore, and he caught her around the waist easily before she could slam the door on him.

They were both laughing now, as he turned her in his arms and bent to pepper kisses across her face as she giggled. She pressed her hands to his face, trying to push him away, but she wasn’t trying very hard, and after another moment of that, he captured her lips in a sweet kiss, grinning against her mouth with the remnants of mirth. She kissed him back just as sweetly, wrapping her arms around his shoulders to press in closer.

He pulled back after a moment, smiling a little against her mouth as he said, “Think I deserve the next ten sweet rolls we find.”

Percy just laughed and said, “Then you’ll have to be faster and get to them before I do.”

It was quiet for a minute, before Butch snorted and said, “Some girlfriend _you_ are.”

She laughed again. “Yeah, but you’re stuck with me now, Pretty Boy. I got a no return policy.”

“Yeah, yeah, _whatever_ , Goody-Two-Shoes. I think you owe me dinner after eating _my_ food.”

“Okay, _Love Muffin_.”

The only thing Percy could hear as she began to walk down the stairs was Butch groaning out, “Oh, _don’t start_ with the nicknames, Perse.”

She just snickered and shook her head as she thought about the fact that she really did love that boy, rough edges and all.


	6. Forsythia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Forsythia - _Anticipation_

Alright. He was going to  _do it_. He was gonna show her who was  _boss._ Show her the Butch-man was  _man_ friend material. Show her—

“We don’t got all day, DeLoria! Hurry up or I’m gonna kill them myself.”

He frowned, ignoring the flutter of fear in his gut when the nasty insect thing twitched, almost like it heard her. A shiver ran up his spine as it took a few more steps towards him, and hissed. 

_No!_ No. He had to do this. His Man Card depended on it. He just had to—

It lunged at him, going airborne to get at his face and—with an embarrassing yet still manly yelp—he swung the bat she’d handed him, hitting its gross body with a crunch and sending it flying into the wall, though not without splattering his face with roach guts. 

Gross.

“Wow, Butch,” came Percy’s smooth voice from behind him. “That was almost impressive.”

He turned and glared at her, ignoring the new fluttering in his stomach at how good she looked with her hair fixed like that and his old jacket around her shoulders. “You’re the one that screamed about that spider you found in the sink last week,  _Nosebleed_.”

She snorted. “Don’t worry, DeLoria. I won’t tell anyone you scream like a  _girl_.”

“ _You—!”_

Her laughter echoed around the building they were in as she turned and went to look for more food.

_…bitch_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just a goofy little prompt from [this list of prompts](http://galpalaven.tumblr.com/post/163158439988/flowers-and-prompts)


	7. Verbena

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Verbena - _Pray For Me_

She hadn’t meant to stay out so late, really. She’d just—gotten caught up talking to Gob and Nova and Butch and Jack and—and now it was dark.

She hovered near the door of Gob’s Saloon, eying what she could see of the night sky warily. She knew it was stupid, and silly, and that she shouldn’t be  _this_  afraid of walking home in the dark, but part of her really was  _this close_  to just renting a room and calling it good enough.

“Hey, Hanson, are we going back to the house, or what?” came Butch’s voice from behind her, close enough that she jumped a little. 

“Huh?” she asked distractedly, eyes still up on the stars, trying to pinpoint any movement that could mean…well…

Butch pushed his way around her, out into the night, tall enough that even with her eyes turned to the sky, the top of his head was in her line of sight. “I  _said—_ are we leavin’ or not?”

“Um, maybe I’ll just—I drank a lot. I might just rent a room here for the night.”

That made him frown more, narrowing his eyes because he knew something was up. Percy shrank in her boots, sighing at how transparent she was being.

“The hell are you talking about? You had  _one_  beer.”

She sighed roughly, deciding if she was going down, she was going down fighting. Or, at least pretend fighting. “I don’t like being out at night, okay? You can go home, but I’m staying here.”

“What are you, scared of the dark?”

“ _No_.”

“Well, then what is it? Just  _talk_  to me!”

She rolled her eyes, glancing back over her shoulder to where everyone else was watching them now. Bracing herself, she shoved him backwards, and tugged him along until they were standing under an awning. 

“Look,” she began under her breath, “you cannot make fun of me about this if I tell you.”

Butch just raised an eyebrow. “I can’t make that promise and you know it.”

She huffed. “You remember how, when you first got out of the Vault, you felt like you were just gonna float off into the sky at any given moment?”

“…yeah?”

“Okay, well, the night sky is like that for me but worse. Because I did sort of float off into it once.”

She waited for him to laugh, for a good twenty seconds, but then— “Are you  _high_  right now?”

She slapped him on the shoulder, feeling only a little satisfaction when he flinched and grumbled under his breath. “No, stupid idiot. I got abducted. By aliens.”

“You are high.”

“ _No_ , I’m  _not_! They took my clothes and poked around in my brain! I had to kill them all to escape and—and now I’m afraid of walking around at night, okay?”

He didn’t look convinced. “Aliens.”

“Yeah,  _aliens_. And nothing makes me feel safe anymore, no matter what I do. I tried saying all those prayers my dad used to say, I tried bringing Dogmeat, I tried an  _umbrella_ …”

“Have you tried just walking  _with another person?”_ Butch asked dryly. “Like, if I held your hand, would that help?”

She opened her mouth to argue, only to pause, shutting it again. Would that help? It would give her more of a solid anchor to the ground should another beam of light try and pull her into the sky. And, it was just Butch, so…

“Hey, Nosebleed, yes or no? I’m getting cold.”

“I mean, I guess it might help.”

He snorted, reaching out and taking her hand before she could offer it. “If nothin’ else, at least we could get abducted together, right?”

She smiled a little, squeezing his hand. “Yeah. You’re right.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> also from [these prompts](http://galpalaven.tumblr.com/post/163158439988/flowers-and-prompts)


	8. Yarrow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yarrow - _Cure For A Broken Heart_

She tries very, very hard not to think about him, but it’s difficult.

At first, when she’s hunting him down, gathering every little scrap of information, every clue to where he’d gone, thinking about him was all she did. Every new place she reached, she pulled out the picture she’d managed to snag from her bedroom, asking if anyone— _anyone—_ had seen her father, because she needed to find him. Needed to bring him home.

Jack—Dr. Rogers, the 200-year-old, 6′5″ ex-football player turned physician—helped a lot, those first few weeks. Taught her to hunt, to hide, to kill. Watched her back as he invited himself along, shrugging her off every time she told him he didn’t  _have_  to come with her.

“Nonsense. I’m already a drifter—I’ll just drift your way.”

And that had been that, until Vault 112.

The whole thing had been a giant mess from the start, and it was a wonder that she even got out alive at all, much less with her father in tow. 

It had been so good to see him, to be in his arms again, but that had been over too soon, too. Dad had work to do, he’d said. Project Purity was almost ready, he just needed to head to Rivet City and get Dr. Li. He offered to travel with her (especially eyeing her ghoulish friend warily) but something had felt off. She told him she’d meet him there, and decided to follow the strange feeling in her gut and wander back over to Vault 101.

Everything had apparently gone to hell there, too. 

She’d never been so grateful for Jack and the dog they’d picked up somewhere along the way, unable to shoot the people she’d grown up with as she was. But they solved that problem, too, just like they solved every other problem. Amata was glad to see her, Butch was still an ass, and Percy ended still being technically banished.

Nothing new, but it stung all the same.

Then, the Jefferson Memorial happened.

There’s nothing quite like the feeling of watching someone you care about die in front of your eyes. The  _thunk_  he’d made as he hit the ground inside the purifier she’d felt in her chest, and she’d have probably stayed standing there forever if Jack hadn’t wrapped his arms around her and dragged her physically from the building.

She cried a lot, that first night—loud, aching sobs into Jack’s shoulder. For what it was worth, he didn’t move much, just wrapped an arm around her and squeezed until the ache eased and she could suck in a breath again.

Something happened after that though–a stupid fight, words she didn’t mean, and Jack ended up leaving for a while. 

“I’ve got some business with the Railroad,” he’d said, not looking at her. “Keep the dog. Don’t die.”

 _Don’t die_  ended up being a much harder order to follow than she’d have expected. Three Dog called her the  _Lone Wanderer_ , sure, but this was really honestly the first time she’d  _been_ alone, having run into Jack almost immediately outside of 101 when she’d stumbled out, shaky kneed and soaked to the bone as the rain poured down.

It’s probably been a week when it happens—when  _they_  catch her.

The entire fiasco with the aliens both feels like the most real thing that’s ever happened to her, and a fever dream that hadn’t been real at all. The thing she remembers the most, years and years later, is the frantic feeling of panic as she’d run through the entire ship, looking for her Tunnel Snakes jacket because  _goddammit_ , it was one of the only things keeping her sane, sometimes.

Not that she’d have admitted it.

When she finds Butch again, in the bar in Rivet City (that she found on accident, like she always did—growing up in a Vault did nothing for her sense of direction when surrounded by metal), she almost feels embarrassed. She’s wearing his jacket, after all, and she’s cut her hair short like his, but he doesn’t do anything but smile and offer to buy her a drink.

That was the first time, in a long time, that she really felt normal again.

Between Butch’s playful ribbing (there’s no more spite in his tone, and she wonders how the Wasteland managed to change him so much) and the warm tingle of alcohol in her fingers, she feels the world shift, just a little. 

They joke about anything—his hair, her hair, starting the Tunnel Snakes all over again, way up here on the surface. She tells him about the Behemoth she’d seen the Brotherhood of Steel kill, and he tells her about the time he almost got eaten by mole rats right out of the Vault (a story she could tell herself, if she wanted).

It’s late, by the time she remembers who she’s talking to—the same guy who’d called her Nosebleed for years and years—but the alcohol has her feeling confident. Something is stitching itself back together in her chest as they laugh over their drinks, heads close together and thighs pressed against each other.

“Hey,” he says quietly after a while, “I heard there were dragons out here. You ever see one?”

And she laughs, warm and low, and she forgets for a moment that everything she looks at reminds her of her dead father. Forgets the way the grey skies remind her of his eyes, forgets the way Rivet City reminds her of the Vault—of home. Forgets the Enclave and everything that’s been hurting her for so long, replaced by the scent of Butch’s stupid cologne and blue, blue eyes.

“No,” she finally says, “but there are these things called  _Deathclaws_ …”

**Author's Note:**

> idk dude its fine


End file.
